


Turnabout

by BlackQat



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Anal, F/M, I don't even know where this smut came from, M Lorca and Landry are tough customers, Michael Burnham and Dr Culber in Lorca's thoughts, My friends say whuuuuut, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 15:58:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16098956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackQat/pseuds/BlackQat
Summary: She likes it hard and she likes it rough. That's fine with him.





	Turnabout

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to LadyFangs for a look-see and comments!

Turnabout

“Anything, anytime, Captain,” Landry says, and as they look out the viewport; Lorca’s thinking about weaponizing the tardigrade and the power that will give them to end the war.

“Dismissed.”

She leaves his research bay, and he goes to admire their new acquisition. Takes some time with the computer and the data the scientists were able to gather about the Glenn’s failure, and the scanty data on the tardigrade. _Ferocious thing,_ he thinks. _Good to have on our side._

Back in his Ready Room he summons Landry. It’s ship’s night by now but she’s still in uniform, a fresh one after that crazy away mission to the Glenn. She may not even have broken a sweat over there though; Landry can deal with that kind of pressure. He motions her over to where he’s standing by the viewport. They exchange a cool smirk and look out together for a few minutes in silence.

“Any time for this, Ellen?” His voice is a low burr. He reaches out a hand and cups her ass.

“Yes _sir_.” What a husky timbre her voice has. He feels a stirring down below. She turns to him, rapidly unzipping her uniform jacket, ditching her small shirt and removing her bra. She sinks to her knees and unzips his fly, lowering his trousers enough to sink her claws into his ass.

“Computer,” he says belatedly. “Privacy lock.” Luckily “privacy lock” includes blocking sound, because he likes to make Landry scream.

His knees almost buckle as she takes him all the way in, his dick going deep into her throat. Inwardly he commends her command of the gag reflex. She reaches up inside his shirt and pinches his nipples hard, then slides her hands around him to claw his back to bleeding; the pain is delicious. She takes him hard, and fast, and he pulls back a little so his ejaculation doesn’t choke her. He wants to keep their sexual relationship going, after all, and it would be very awkward to explain to Dr Culber if Landry choked to death on come. Would he take a DNA sample of the  culprit? Lorca smirks at the thought. She swallows, looking up, her eyes on fire. She likes it hard and she likes it dirty, which is fine with him. She doesn’t get it in the cunny, though. He’s saving that for Michael, should he succeed in wooing her to his side, this living Michael who will help him conquer. He feels a little thrill of the chase, and a touch of sentiment. He usually saves the sentiment for when he’s alone. And he buries it now.

He likes rapidly getting about the business of fucking the ones he thinks of as “other women.” There is one in Engineering and one in Sciences, in Black Ops.

He might also like a taste of Cadet Tilly, so lush in figure and so innocent. Oh, he could dispel that quickly indeed. He even likes her chatter, a bit, and imagines tangling his hands in her red curly hair, watching her eyes widen as he puts his cock in her mouth. Ah, well. Duties of a captain, especially in ever-so-polite Starfleet, prevent iffy consensual sex, so he restrains himself until he can be with one of “his women,” especially Landry. Ellen is a great fuck and occasional bed partner. She asks no questions, tells no lies, does not speak of love. She is so brisk about sex, she could be a Terran.

Landry’s unhooking her bra now, and unfastening Lorca’s boots so he can get his pants off, then unhooks and toes off her boots. He sheds his jacket, shrugs off his undershirt. The air hits the blood on his back, a nice chill. He likes being naked in his Ready Room. He likes imagining it, when the Discovery officers report to him. In his world there’s some power in that position, commanding enough loyalty from subordinates to be naked in front of them, dressing or stripping off while transacting business. And his Terran Landry liked being naked in the Ready Room just as much as this Starfleet one does.

He whips off her pants and, both of them still standing, he reaches down to manipulate her clit. She’s so hot she almost comes right then. He has her panting heavily, vocally, and shoves three fingers up inside, stretching her tight snatch, up and down and curling forward, and she jerks around him, moaning loud. So wet, so good. She turns and lays her torso over his desk. She says she likes the dragging of her nipples on the glass as his movements jerk her forward and backward.

He cups his fingers under her wetness and spreads the generous slickness around her ass crack, and around and into the brown eye, which responds. He smears the head of his cock with her wetness, then teases her hole with it, then moves away from her anus to slide his penis back and forth through her folds. She’s multi-orgasmic and it thrills him. 

Soon enough she’s panting again and he slides himself backward through her folds, getting himself good and slick; his big hands hold her hips with a bruising grip and he plunges into her ass, eliciting a big, vocal gasp. She likes it there but likes it more gradually than he’s giving it to her now. Sometimes he treats her to a good slow ass fuck, but right now he’s coming in hot. 

Seeing Michael Burnham today had aroused Lorca incredibly. She is the only woman who has ever elicited deep caring from him. And she is the only one who will ever get it, be she Terran or Starfleet.

Just under Landry’s ribs, she’s pressed against the edge of his desk. He shoves his wet fingers in her mouth and she sucks them, he loves having his fingers sucked and is incidentally amused at the idea of her going to Sickbay with some sex-related infection. He grins at himself, wondering if the doc would judge Landry foolish as he worked to cure it.

 _I can be SUCH a bastard. Ellen doesn't mind me though._                                                                                                                                          

Once during sex in his quarters, she asked Lorca to choke her and she passed out, and he had a frisson of fear, he might have to explain her _death_ to the wide-eyed doctor. Fortunately for both him and Ellen, she quickly recovered, grinning, “Damn that was good.” He hasn’t gone quite that far again. 

He doesn’t humiliate Landry in front of the crew, except when she fucks up her job, but sometimes it amuses him to personally humiliate her in private. It seems to amuse her too, seeing how far she can push him.

Landry’s really noising it up now, and the tightness of her ass feels so good around him, so good, soo fucking good. His glutes and legs are working as he pumps her fast. She’s all but screaming with it, he reaches under her breasts and tweaks her nipples hard. He can feel her anus pulsing as she gasps and climaxes again, and he’s jerking inside her, jetting come up her ass, and shouts a grunt as he finishes.

She lifts up off the desk, there’s a smear on the spot where his wet fingers squeezed her one nipple. They’re both still panting from the exercise, staring at each other in triumph. She quickly dresses, but he gets a look at her breasts heaving before she puts on her bra and shirt.

“My quarters, tomorrow night?” he says, thinking of biting those gorgeous brown nipples. Biting her breasts, and taut belly, and muscled ass.

“You bet,” she replies, zipping up her jacket and bending to do up her boots.

He’s tucking in his tee-shirt and fastening up his trousers when she comes at him in a blur, grabs his throat, shoves him harshly against the viewport and thrusts her tongue into his mouth. His eyebrows fly up as she gets her tongue as far as his throat, shoving deep.

“Thought I’d return the favor,” she smirks. “Turnabout is fair play, isn’t it.”

He smirks back. “See you later.”

She winks, and as she codes open the door, he heads for the bathroom for a gargle of germ-fighting mouthwash, betting she’s headed out to do exactly the same. Neither of them wants a stupid visit to Sickbay. _Clever girl._

He likes Landry. He likes the give and take, and what she gives he loves to take. Maybe later she’ll give him a good ass-pegging. His butt winces pleasurably at the thought, and he gets himself a drink, and crunches a fortune cookie.

_You have already met your equal._

Turning to look out toward home, he laughs; it’s true enough. But is it Landry?

Or Michael Burnham?


End file.
